Endgame
by Sunsorrow18
Summary: Life would've been so much easier for Whispers if she could just hate Ghetsis. Then she could have just defeated him like everyone expected her to, and go home. But life wasn't easy for Whispers. I am very bad at summaries.


**A.N.: This is meant to be a kind of silly story, although it may have some serious moments. **

**I've really just kicked the plot of the games in the behind and thrown it out the door. Some of the characters might also seem a bit off, and I apologize profusely for any mistakes in spelling, grammar, or elements of mythology... like wuji. I don't know anything about wuji.**

After sitting in silence and observing each other from opposite sides of the man's desk, Whispers and Ghetsis came to the conclusion that the line between love and hate was thin and blurred. Put them in a Venn diagram, and it would become clear that they are more similar than different.

At the moment, pretty much everyone in Unova was expecting the young girl to be battling him, saving Kyurem, saving the region, etcetera, etcetera, but her heart wasn't into it, and her head was totally out of the game. So here she was, staring at Ghetsis and rhythmically tapping her fingers on her cheek, pondering over these feelings and the possible repercussions.

Whispers had never been in love before, and she wasn't liking it one bit. Sure, she'd had crushes before, but they either turned out to be idiots, or they really didn't know that she existed. This was a new one, and it seemed more like a strange obsession than what she'd known before.

"So," she said decisively, although no decision had been reached. It was just to break the enveloping silence stretching out like a blank canvas.

After a moment, Ghetsis echoed her. "So," he finally said. After Colress had failed to beat her, all of Team Plasma was depending on him to do so, but he didn't really care to try. He knew he had no chance. He'd watched her and her team training in the Giant Chasm- he didn't have a clue where she'd gotten a Deino, or gathered up that patience, but now she had a legitimately evolved Hydreigon, not to mention her ungodly Sigilyph.

It would be better, Ghetsis assumed, to defeat her with words before suggesting a battle than to challenge her and loose. But she didn't appear to need much prodding to back down. She was just staring at him with no life in her big hazel eyes, so… blank and... absent. This was not how Ghetsis was used to her. They'd had other scattered encounters, and she was never unwilling to fling a couple of sarcastic insults his way. And then she would encourage him. This led to his not understanding her. _At all_.

He could see it in her now. He had no doubt that she was Kyurem's Hero. The personification of wuji. The absence of dark and light, black and white, good and evil. Perfect balance.

Positive and negative. That was the difference between love and hate.

"So what," she countered with a most dramatic sigh, raking her fingers through her thick dark hair, twisting it in her hands and tossing it over one shoulder. Ghetsis recognized this as a nervous habit. "Is there even a what anymore?" she continued, putting her elbows on his desk and resting her chin on her hands. And she was still staring at him. Her scrutiny made the older man quite uncomfortable, although it didn't show on his face.

"Unless," he sighed, red eye slitting as he gazed straight back at her. So… this was awkward. "Unless you intend to fight me, I don't believe there is."

Whispers chuckled, raising a hand, splaying her fingers with her palm towards him. "Oh no, I don't want to fight you. There's no doubt in my mind that you are a lot stronger than me. Give me your hand."

What-what could she possibly want with his hand? Ghetsis was a bit wary of her sudden and odd request, but after a moment of hesitation, he complied, black-gloved hand emerging from beneath his robes. She moved her own to press against his, and Ghetsis' hand was so much larger than hers, it was hardly comical.

"You could break me with one hand," she said, looking somehow wistful. Her eyelashes were the sort most girls would kill, or at least glue fake stuff to their faces, for. Ghetsis made note of this, as he did the inexplicable silvery skin on her upper eyelids, the small scar on her left eyebrow. It was amazing, the details he noticed when he was staring at her without really seeing. "You might not know this, since you hypocrites are quite fond of Pokémon battling," she said with a tiny smile, "But if I have the option, I would much rather be the one to go into battle, not my Pokémon."

"That is…" Ghetsis hesitated, drawing his hand back. "Unique." He was beginning to like this strange girl. Trainers were wrong about this matter- there was much more to be learned through conversation than by battling. "Does it mean that you are not going to oppose me- Team Plasma?"

"Yes, that's what it means," she smiled. "I have no problem with you pursuing your goal. If you are able to succeed, you deserve it. If you fail, then you don't deserve it." Whispers stood up, her chair skidding back on the floor with a slight shriek. "I suppose I'll be going now." She turned and started off, then hesitated, turning to look at him. "M-may I ask you a question?"

Ghetsis looked up from his desk, a flutter of nervousness running through his stomach at all the things such a person could think to ask him. "I suppose so," he said finally, with reluctance.

"What…" Whispers broke off speechlessly, waving a hand at Ghetsis' robes, an amused grin stretched across her face. It made her look _so_ much more pleasant. "What's with the eye obsession?"

"OH. That." Ghetsis was rather relieved, that was easy to answer. "Well, that's a mistake." The random questions bouncing around in that girl's head… "These were meant to be patterned with the symbol of the Harmonia family." He stood up and started forwards, tugging on the thin black chain around his neck to show her a small disk- Whispers recognized it as a whole note with a quarter rest bridging the hole in the middle. Haha. Harmonia. Music. Figures. "Whoever was in charge of the design probably mistook this for an eye, and it would seem a safe guess with…" he gestured elegantly to his eye patch, "…this."

The girl laughed out loud, looking up into the green-haired man's face- she had to look up, seeing as he was a foot taller than her. "Wow. Well, it looks perfectly intimidating on you, anyways. So that eyethingy, is the eye, like, missing, or-" She paused, stopping her fast chattering. "Sorry, I have too many questions up here." She pointed at the side of her head.

"It is fine," Ghetsis chuckled, rather amused by her sudden changes in character. "Actually, the eye _is_ still there, it's just... Eh… hideous. And I will _not_ show you, no matter how nicely you ask."

It wasn't that Ghetsis couldn't befriend anyone, it was either that the people hatred his guts, or he deemed them unworthy of the effort. But just after talking to Whispers, he thought she might be valuable to him, to Team Plasma.

"I won't ask, then," the girl chuckled, eyes lighting up with humor. "Bye, then. Maybe I'll see you around somewhere. You know, once you're ruler of the world and all." Her smile stretched out broadly and she nodded at him before turning away.

"You could join us," Ghetsis said quickly, the words slipping from his mouth without his permission. He hadn't meant to say it, he wasn't even sure it was a good idea. But now no taking it back.

She didn't turn to face him, but he could sense her agitation in the sharpening planes of her shoulders. "…Sorry," she sighed quietly. "I'm already signed to a different organization, and leaving them would mean death."

The man's red eyes widened in shock. "That seems… harsh. Who-"

"The Shadow Triad," she answered, before he finished his question. "They have no obligation to share their apprentice with Team Plasma, unless, of course, you ask them to." The Triad would do anything for Ghetsis. To say that he had saved their lives was a bit weak. He had practically given them life, or at least stopped them from killing themselves.

"…ah," Ghetsis sighed, raking his fingers through his emerald hair. "I will speak with them, thank you." His casual tones from moments ago had been replaced with cool formality. Somewhere, he had begun treating her as a subordinate.

Love and hate.


End file.
